Showing posts with label national cake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label national cake. Show all posts

Friday, January 30, 2015

With Brooms, Umbrellas, Crops and Livestock.


Twenty fifteen elections are around the corner with different candidates from different political parties vying for a mark beneath my thumb.
Although they are different, they are united by a common goal.

To effect positive change and growth.

They say this in earnest and with palms across their chest, they make this pledge. They seem believable, they seem true yet I find it a little difficult to trust their word.
How can you give me change when you permit irrational acts to be done in your name?
Since when does cutting away the roots of a tree strengthen the plant?
Aside from intimidation, name-calling and image bashing, all over town, promotional posters are splattered indiscriminately defacing buildings, fences and road dividers to name a few.

I am thinking to myself, “who will clean up this mess?

Over the months, I've come across jingles, adverts in publications and really pretty billboards (plus or minus Photoshop).
Nice words, catchy phrases; I got the message.

Ten-eleven years ago, I went to watch a theater presentation with my mum in the evening. It ran longer than the usual 2hrs but was worth it. We made our way home and were surprised to see lots of cars parked in front of and about our residence.
At that time, it was a tradition for members of staff and office holders to personally visit family members of recently bereaved.
My dad had gone for an official errand and was due home that evening.
I scanned the lot of cars looking for my father’s vehicle.
It was not there.
I looked at my mother she looked at me; neither of us uttered a word. We knew what the other was thinking but were afraid that if we spoke it might come to pass.
Our silence was a prayer.
In trepidation we got out of the vehicle and walked into the house.
I saw someone.
He looked like my father, he sounded like my father but I hesitated to admit he was my father.
The man looked heartbroken. He was pale, shaken and in tears. Words I have never associated with my father in all my years.
His clothes were blood stained, glasses askew and his lips trembled whenever he tried to speak.
He was a wreck.
It turned out he was involved in an accident and his driver died.
Not from the accident but from lack of… I really can’t say.

They were flung off the road by a trailer avoiding a pothole without functioning breaks.
The car fell into a ditch and they passed out momentarily.
My dad was the first to come to.
He called his driver. When he realized the driver wasn’t responding to his name, he urged the gathering onlookers to assist him.
As luck would have it, there was a government hospital about 20 minutes away. He gave a man some money to use an okada to bring help. The man returned alone saying the staff on duty said there was no fuel in the ambulance. Without thinking, he gave him money to give to them to buy fuel.
When the ambulance came, they loaded the driver into the vehicle and drove straight into a bottleneck. The road was bad so only one side of it was pliable. In addition, they had to drive slowly because one of the back tires of the ambulance had a fault.
After about an hour or more, they got to the hospital.
First they would not let them sit till they confirmed my dad could afford the registration fee and ensuing bills. After that, the generator would not come on and there was no waiting for NEPA because the transformer was blown.
Almost frantic, he gave them money to do what ever it took to get light in the hospital.
After taking the driver to the waiting room. The nurse on duty said they would have to wait a while because the doctor on duty was in his private hospital. My dad sat on the bed with his driver cradled in his arms.
He kept talking to him and urging him to hold on a little while longer, ‘help was on the way’.
It was when the nurse was reprimanding the cleaning lady for not preparing the bed like she asked her to that the driver tapped my father and said “oga, you don try for me. I don taya. Make I go.”

About four hours after surviving a ghastly motor accident, the driver *Mr. X Y Z gave up and died in my father’s arms.

3 presidents and 10 years later, similar incidents are still occurring.
People are still dying from neglect, disintegration and misplaced priorities.

Twenty fifteen elections are around the corner with different candidates from different political parties vying for a mark beneath my thumb.

Before I accept your promise of positive change and growth, do you know who the people are?
Are you abreast with the needs of said people?
What makes what you are saying now different from what you said in the past?
How do you intend to add quality to my life?

Friday, October 11, 2013

Speckled Impression


There’s this song I grew up listening to in church, it goes somewhat like “I’m a millionaire-ah-ah-ah, I’m a millionaire. I’m a happy-happy-happy millionaire”.
It is on the top of my list of favorite Christian songs.
As ‘talented’ as I am, I have never pretended to or claimed to know how to carry a tune.
Sing?
Maybe I can, probably to save my life or that of someone I really care about but if I were to rate my singing ability on a scale of one to ten, I’d give my self a minus one with zero being “somebody-save-us-please!!!-Kindly-turnoff-that-rambling–contraception-before-we-gouge-out-our-ears-with-a-copper-file.Shoot-it-beat-it-squish-it-kill-it-whatever-just-make-it-stop!

So when I was younger, I would clutch my hymnbook anxiously, hold my breath and pray that ‘today’ would be the day they sing the song. Some days I got lucky, my prayer would be heard and the choir master would announce the hymn. I’d quickly flip to the page and hum slash recite the words along with the singing choir.
I always felt uplifted by their rendition and dreamed of happy days to come – having my very own castle complete with flying pony, perfect tea sets and cooperative playmates.
On other days, I was not so lucky.
It didn’t bother me much though. Rather I carefully put away my hymnbook and look forward to the next time. Maybe, I’d get lucky then.
I still love the song till date; problem is

I realize that now unlike before instead of attempting to sing along and get into the groove of the spirit, I’d be busy watching for those who are singing.
I’d then pick out the seemingly single men and keep an eye on them. When they get to the “ I’m a happy millionaire” part I’d notice my gaze traveling down to inspect their shoes, accessories, clothing and back to their face. Usually, I am able to stop there, regain composure and go back to the point of worship but on more occasions, I find myself waiting for the subject of my perusal to catch my gaze so I can give him a look that implies “you this wicked man, is it me you are trying to deceive?”
The clueless man’s reaction is best left to the imagination.

Like play like play, today is Friday October 11 2013 and ASUU is still on strike, not only are Fayrouz, Cheese balls and color-blocking girls becoming scarce but non students are gradually beginning to get used to the idea of having jobless young adults restlessly sit home gazing at the living room ceilings (where applicable)from morning till night wondering whether his/her boyfriend/girlfriend is being faithful to them where ever they are.

In a bid to understand what is going on in my beloved country with respect to education and youth development I have stopped skipping to the next station when the news bulletin is on.
From what I have gleaned there is some sort of love triangle going on with one party looking for who to beat/kidnap/take to court, another party looking for who to bully/coerce/take to court and the 3rd party playing the helpless victim.
In other news; a couple of rams have been detained for violating sanitation laws, a kindly governor handed out galaxy tabs to school children who have no power supply in their places of refuge (pitiful homes), portable drinking water or good school uniforms and finally police encourage citizens to be more trusting and forthcoming. After all the police is your friend!

To end this, I’d pray for Nigeria and make a decree; there will be peace, progress and prosperity, if not today, then tomorrow or the next but it will happen some time in my day...

Do not pout people, smile!
E go better.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

The big R



Reduce, Reuse, Recycle…

The environment is the surroundings in which a person, animal or plant lives in or operates from.
It is the natural world as a whole or in a particular geographical area especially as affected by human activity.
The environment is a fragile little thing that struggles each day with degradation, neglect and abuse in order provide its inhabitants with protection, resource and sustenance.

Friday morning, I turned my face away as this seriously road unworthy trailer, bellowed past. It infused me, my clothes and hair with an unholy black smog.
I coughed, fanned the air around my face with my fingers, blinked away tears in my eyes that formed from the onslaught and went about my business as usual.
Oh! There was the courtesy glance I threw in the direction of Federal Road Safety Corps stationed at the junction.
They were too busy interrogating the apparent owner of a shiny silver jeep as to why the “t” on his vehicle paper was not properly crossed to notice or be affected by the demon on wheels that went past.

Unlike these equation's which I am still waiting on to provide me with money, food and/or a husband, green house gases, ozone depletion and acid rain among others are things I learned about in school, thought were an imaginary monsters but face each day.

Throbbing headaches, high blood pressure, difficulty in breathing and the heat of the sun bearing down on us with a vengeance is something that can easily be traced back to karma.
You do not piss in an ice tray and expect honey flavored ice cubes.

Most of us have come across the 3 R’s at one point in our life or the other but it seems like the only people who have found use for these principles are our “decision makers”.
They Reduce the expectations of the citizens, spend more time and energy on irrelevant agendas and encourage thuggism, thievery and bullying.
They Reuse the same campaign strategies, promising better health, amenities, infrastructures… more hope for the future if only we give them the power and finally, they Recycle their party representatives.
The older? The better!

Waste and how we choose to handle it affects our environment.
Waste is not only the gala wrapper or empty La Casera bottle we throw away after a “quick fix”, it also includes misused energy, resource and intellect.

The environment is hurt each time we use its limited resource to create new items to replace the ones we throw away. Frankly speaking, no matter the angle you look at it from, a landfill is never a pretty site to see so, why promote it?

The most effective way to reduce waste is to not create it!


Think before you trash.
We end up returning to the market to buy items similar to the ones we threw out to facilitate a particular chore.

Reducing is cutting back on the amount of trash we make.
Reusing is finding a new way to use “trash” so we do not have to throw it out.
Recycling is using collecting and processing materials that would otherwise be thrown away as trash and turning them into new products.

• Go with your own bags when shopping and reduce your demand for plastic bags for each item you buy.
• Buy products that can be reused.
• Reduce hazardous waste (furniture polish, cleaning solvent, bleach, non-biodegradable detergent, etc)
• Sell or give away unwanted items.
• Buy products with little packaging, they use less raw material.
• Ensure taps/faucets are tightly closed and not dripping after use.
• Old clothes can be used as cleaning rags.
• Buy products that can be recycled
• Recycle motor products (break fluids, oils and tires)
• Use energy saving bulbs; replacing the cheap regular light bulbs with energy saving bulbs will reduce nitrogen oxide (produces smog), sulphur dioxide (acid rain) and carbon dioxide (global warming). On the long run it would save you money.
• Buy non toxic products whenever possible
• Turn off lights when not in use.
• Use plastic grocery bags as trash bags.
• Buy only what you need.
• Save money, buy in bulk.
• Avoid buying canned items and opt for fresh produce, bottled drinks or items in paper packages.
• Return empty plastic water bottles to their manufacturers.
• Where you can, keep a garden and start a compost bin to use as manure for the plants.
• Rent and/or share items that are used infrequently like party decorations, tools or furniture.

The 3 R’s reduce the amount of waste sent to landfills and incinerators (that is if we really have functional ones in the country), reduces the green house gases emitted, conserves natural resources and sustains the environment for future generations.



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Risky is about the only one in a million population who knew that before he’d live, he was sure to die.
Conceived on a cool Saturday evening at the start of the rainy season , he was born to an age worn mother and a young irresponsible father (who had lost his head).
A one-night stand, that was how the relationship was defined.
Although his mother was past her prime (advanced in age), when she was in the mood and begun her dance, there were few males who could resist her call.
His father was no exception.
Smitten is the word.
You can blame nature, the society, or whatever but no blame can change the fact that of all her offspring, Risky was the only one who made it past infancy.


Risky, Risky, where’d you go?
With wit like a whip
He’s faster than a flash

Risky, Risky, see that streak?
Like a bullet to its target
Risky’s straight to the goal